Athos was busy discussing the food stores with Flea, when he heard the shout of “Athos!” from across the court.
Athos looked around to find Elaine rushing towards him, pulling somebody along behind her. Her shout and hurried movements caused quite the stir, as people’s attentions were caught and they began to follow.
“What’s going on?” Aramis asked as he came up behind Athos.
Athos shrugged and walked toward Elaine to meet her halfway. The middle-aged motherly woman stopped, panting heavily, when she reached them. “Athos.” She repeated, “This young one found me this morning.” She then ushered a boy out from behind her to stand in front of Athos.
The boy looked about fifteen or sixteen, quite tall already, with black hair, tanned skin and dark brown eyes that looked around him in a nervous mixture of trepidation, wonder and sadness. His eyes then locked onto Athos.
“You are Athos?” He asked.
“I am.” Athos said in confusion.
As though given permission to let go, the boy dropped to his knees and gave a grief-stricken moan, clutching his face in his hands. Athos startled and looked back to find Aramis and Porthos watching him in stunned silence, along with most of the Court.
Not knowing what else to do, or how this mysterious boy knew his name, Athos knelt down before the boy. “Who are you?”
“My name is d’Artagnan.” The boy said, tear-filled eyes looking straight into Athos’ and Athos could see a whirlwind of emotion in those dark eyes. Eyes that looked too old and haunted for the boy’s years. “I’m from Gascony.”
“He was travelling with a small group of our kind,” Elaine informed Athos when d’Artagnan said no more. “Entered Paris last night by the water and walked straight into a trap. Athos, Judge Richelieu was among the men waiting.”
Athos head shot up in surprise. “What?!” Richelieu did not often go out on patrol. He did not like to do the dirty work himself. Athos found himself looking at the boy in wonderment, “Then how are you here?”
“He chased us to Notre Dame.” d’Artagnan’s voice was wobbling, “He killed my father.” He gasped as the first tears began to fall from already reddened eyes, “On the steps.”
Athos heard Aramis gasp aloud behind him, and Athos spared a glance to make sure that he was alright, memories of finding Aramis dying on those same steps flooding his mind. Porthos had taken hold of Aramis’ arm, keeping him grounded.
“And then he tried to drown me.” d’Artagnan’s next words had Athos’ attention flying back.
“What?!” Aramis cried aloud this time, rushing forwards to kneel by the boy also, taking his hand, “You poor thing, I am so sorry.”
“How are you not dead?” Porthos asked in stunned surprise, regarding the boy with interest and joining Athos and Aramis on the floor with the boy.
“I was saved. Captain Treville…” d’Artagnan paused, clearly waiting for the reaction of recognition from Athos, and once finding what he was looking for carried on “He stopped him. He said he’d take care of my father’s body.” He took a deep breath and his hands were shaking slightly in Aramis’ hold. “And then he told me to find you, Athos.”
Athos nodded, absolutely stunned by the terrible losses that had befallen the boy at Richelieu’s hands. “Treville did right. You are safe here, d’Artagnan.” He placed his hand over Aramis and d’Artagnan’s. Athos looked to Porthos for support, Porthos always knew what to say.
For once, it appeared Athos had said the right thing, as all Porthos did was join his hand to the pile and repeat, “You are safe here with us, d’Artagnan.”
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Sanctuary 7b/?
Date: 2015-01-11 12:57 am (UTC)Athos was busy discussing the food stores with Flea, when he heard the shout of “Athos!” from across the court.
Athos looked around to find Elaine rushing towards him, pulling somebody along behind her. Her shout and hurried movements caused quite the stir, as people’s attentions were caught and they began to follow.
“What’s going on?” Aramis asked as he came up behind Athos.
Athos shrugged and walked toward Elaine to meet her halfway. The middle-aged motherly woman stopped, panting heavily, when she reached them. “Athos.” She repeated, “This young one found me this morning.” She then ushered a boy out from behind her to stand in front of Athos.
The boy looked about fifteen or sixteen, quite tall already, with black hair, tanned skin and dark brown eyes that looked around him in a nervous mixture of trepidation, wonder and sadness. His eyes then locked onto Athos.
“You are Athos?” He asked.
“I am.” Athos said in confusion.
As though given permission to let go, the boy dropped to his knees and gave a grief-stricken moan, clutching his face in his hands. Athos startled and looked back to find Aramis and Porthos watching him in stunned silence, along with most of the Court.
Not knowing what else to do, or how this mysterious boy knew his name, Athos knelt down before the boy. “Who are you?”
“My name is d’Artagnan.” The boy said, tear-filled eyes looking straight into Athos’ and Athos could see a whirlwind of emotion in those dark eyes. Eyes that looked too old and haunted for the boy’s years. “I’m from Gascony.”
“He was travelling with a small group of our kind,” Elaine informed Athos when d’Artagnan said no more. “Entered Paris last night by the water and walked straight into a trap. Athos, Judge Richelieu was among the men waiting.”
Athos head shot up in surprise. “What?!” Richelieu did not often go out on patrol. He did not like to do the dirty work himself. Athos found himself looking at the boy in wonderment, “Then how are you here?”
“He chased us to Notre Dame.” d’Artagnan’s voice was wobbling, “He killed my father.” He gasped as the first tears began to fall from already reddened eyes, “On the steps.”
Athos heard Aramis gasp aloud behind him, and Athos spared a glance to make sure that he was alright, memories of finding Aramis dying on those same steps flooding his mind. Porthos had taken hold of Aramis’ arm, keeping him grounded.
“And then he tried to drown me.” d’Artagnan’s next words had Athos’ attention flying back.
“What?!” Aramis cried aloud this time, rushing forwards to kneel by the boy also, taking his hand, “You poor thing, I am so sorry.”
“How are you not dead?” Porthos asked in stunned surprise, regarding the boy with interest and joining Athos and Aramis on the floor with the boy.
“I was saved. Captain Treville…” d’Artagnan paused, clearly waiting for the reaction of recognition from Athos, and once finding what he was looking for carried on “He stopped him. He said he’d take care of my father’s body.” He took a deep breath and his hands were shaking slightly in Aramis’ hold. “And then he told me to find you, Athos.”
Athos nodded, absolutely stunned by the terrible losses that had befallen the boy at Richelieu’s hands. “Treville did right. You are safe here, d’Artagnan.” He placed his hand over Aramis and d’Artagnan’s. Athos looked to Porthos for support, Porthos always knew what to say.
For once, it appeared Athos had said the right thing, as all Porthos did was join his hand to the pile and repeat, “You are safe here with us, d’Artagnan.”